Three Reasons
by Elone McFox
Summary: When he is chosen for the chance of eternal glory and dying with an audience, he does it for three reasons. Number one: the eternal glory - for his house and family. Number two: the lack of end-of-the-year tests. Number three: getting to know her.
1. Beginning

**Three Reasons**

_This is one of the fifteen Cedric/Hermione stories I've written through the ages, but the second one I actually publish here. Hopefully you'll like it!_ _Please read and review, especially if there's anything (in the text) you want more or less of!_

_And, well, if I were JKR, I wouldn't have killed Cedric, would I?  
_

_***  
_

There were three reasons for not hating the chance of getting killed in a stupid tournament.

Number one was the eternal glory. I couldn't care less (... well, if I tried really hard, I might have been able to), but for my dad, and my house - they care.

Number two, the point of not having to do the exams in the end of the year. I suppose they would give me the highest grade just for being brave – shame it's not the N.E.W.T.s.

Number three: Hermione Granger.

So when the fantastic, unbiased Goblet of Fire spit my name out as third and last (I thought), I really felt quite happy.

Which might have had something to do with the hundreds or thousands of people cheering.

But I don't think that was even half the truth - I looked at her, so far away, and I could see her clapping happily, even though she really had wanted someone in her own house, like Angelina the Quidditch player, being the Hogwarts champion.

So people were shouting "Congratulations!" and beating me hard in the back as if me getting the chance to die with and audience was something envious.

I couldn't even get her to look straight at me when I walked through the Great Hall, the sound of my heart beating, being so loud inside my head.

I smiled widely and nodded at a few people, before entering the room where Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum now was.

Fleur greeted me with a nervous little smile and a very French hello – well, the accent, no kissing.

Viktor did the same, with another accent (Bulgarian, perhaps?).

We tried talking about the tournament – if with our friends, I suppose, we would have been cheerful and excited over it, but now we were competing against each other.

And then came Harry Potter.

And _there_ the biggest reason for me competing went away.

***

Well. The whole thing started three years ago, with a sad, crying little girl in the girls' loo. I wasn't in there, but she was coming out of one.

(Me not being in there had three reasons for it, too. One, it being the girls' loo, two, it being broken, and three, it being inhabited by Moaning Myrtle.)

I saw her there and just knew that it was my duty to cheer her up, because – well, three reasons there too: one, I'm a Hufflepuff, two, I'm the one who always cheer people up, and three, I was the only other person there.

I can't even remember why I was there, that day, that time. It was a Sunday in October, the rain outside was pouring down like affected with gravity fifteen times stronger than usual.

Somehow, even though this girl was crying and the rain was pouring down with so much obvious anger, angst and mourning, the world seemed light.

It might have been that Hogwarts is – on her best days – the most cheerful place you can find, and I don't really think I'm talking about the students, either.

I do believe she has a soul, and that she was happy because she made me meet Hermione Granger.

Oh, I'm such a _girl_.

Well, quite technically, I don't mind girls. I don't even mind being called girly, because being 'girly' (which is quite stupid, you know, claiming that being like this or that goes with being girl or boy) requires being brave. I know that, since I've been the person other people come to when they're sad, because I'm such a great 'cheer uper', which mostly is known to be a girly thing.

(I regularly don't hug people when cheering them up, though that has happened sometimes. Mostly girls, but... yes, a few boys too. Oh, I'm brave.)

Well. Little Hermione Granger, eleven or twelve years, crying in the corridor.

I asked her 'what's the matter?' and she actually told me (she turned out to be a real waffler in non-crying state) and she looked so small and vulnerable.

Later I realised I was incredibly wrong about her being 'vulnerable'. By then I was already in love with her.


	2. Introduction of friends

_Well, here's chapter two. I'll try to come up with some great name, but I don't know it right now. he chapters are kind of short, but I wanted them to be short and "chatty" out of Cedric's head. It might change a bit over time, though. Anything is possible!_

_Please read, review and love!_

_Elone_

**Chapter 2**

We were two champions from Hogwarts. Great, I thought.

Hermione Granger wouldn't exactly be impressed by me if her best friend, several years younger, were competing against me.

Why did Harry Potter have to be there?

Yeah, okay. He saved the wizarding world and everything when he was one year old.

Who _cares_?

At least the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins all thought he had cheated in some way.

It wasn't a good thing, of course, and I felt kind of bad for him...

But he had Hermione (and apparently they became much closer, since his other, red-haired friend wouldn't talk to him. Probably jealous).

And people started following me around. Even more than before.

Before, it was just Gemma Madley, Devlin Wagtail, Gavin Zeller and Nalin Sarin and me.

Gemma was the leader and constantly 'between relationships' (they mostly lasted the time it took her to snog them and break their heart), Devlin the smart one, Gavin the one who was always up to something – and the Quidditch star and Nalin the pretty one.

I was never anything, until I was everything. Quidditch star, smart one, pretty one. And champion one.

'Ced, you're gonna die,' Gemma said and rolled her eyes. She threw herself into the couch and looked through the common room with a half-bored smiled. We've never quite figured out how the Sorting Hat could have mistaken her for 'loyal' – she had actually just dumped her last boyfriend because his nose was too big.

'I won't,' I said and laughed. 'Dying is for other people. If I died, I wouldn't be able to make the team win Quidditch next year.'

'Oh, sod it,' Gemma snapped.

I think she was really annoyed about being six days too young to put her name in the Goblet.

'I can't believe we won't have any Quidditch for a whole bloody year!' Gavin complained and shook his blond head.

'We'll manage,' Devlin said cheerfully and looked at us. 'Why are you all so... dull? We should celebrate. Ced here is going to get a huge prize when he wins, and eternal glory!'

Well, Devlin is Irish. That explains much, doesn't it?

'You know, I'm only competing. I'm not actually going to win,' I said, half embarrassed from everyone just supposing I'm going to win.

Nalin looked at us with her big, dark eyes and smiled. 'Oh, Ced, please take some credit for being the contestant? Obviously, the Gryffindors compete against the rest of the school, but that's because they aren't able to let anyone else get the glory, see?'

'Potter didn't put his name in the Goblet, someone else did,' I muttered. I thought about telling them what they had said – that he was dead frightened about competing. That would make my friends a little less angry with him, wouldn't it?

Though they would probably only try to make him feel bad about it. Possibly not my friends, but all the other Hufflepuffers who were watching us.

I didn't have to say anything. Gemma decided not to waste the opportunity and said, therefore, loudly, 'Someone up for a snog? No gender discriminated!.'

And some young Hufflepuff boys cared more about snogging than about me.

Yeah, okay, so technically, I've never spoken to Hermione more than that time when she was crying. Not once in three years.

Except for when she was petrified in the hospital wing for some weeks. Then I actually spoke to her. Not that she could hear, I suppose, but still. I didn't exactly tell her long stories of love, but regular things, like what dinner tasted like that day or something stupid.

Or how Gemma once melted her cauldron in class and Professor Snape's shoe became violet from her spilt potion.

I haven't actually been in the hospital wing that much. I, like most wizards, don't get sick that often, and the only accidents I've been through are Quidditch related, but it's not like I've fallen thirty metres from meeting a dementor.

Oh, well. I suppose this year will change that, won't it?


	3. Nonhappening library scene

_Well, here's chapter three. Nothing special, though I'm trying to give a lot of random background information._

_Well, I don't have any beta, and English isn't my mother tongue, so if you find any mistakes, grammar, spelling (or canon) please tell me._

_Lots of love and happy thoughts!  
_

**Chapter 3**

All of sudden I found myself in the library, together with Devlin and Nalin.

It wasn't even for the sake of homework.

It was partly for the triwizard tournament. I had this feeling of being doomed to death, and reading pages of spells that might help reduced my angst.

Well, 'might help' was an expression with quite liberal meaning. I didn't exactly know how five hundred pages of 'The Standard Book of Spells' could help me with the tasks, but in a way, it was just soothing.

These Friday hours, being free since I didn't choose to go on with Study of Ancient Runes or Arithmancy for my N.E.W.T.s. The Runes thing was weird but kind of fun, and Arithmancy was my worst subject, so I dropped those willingly – not because of bad O.W.L.s.

And I'd never even taken Divination, because that was so illogical I never even thought about it.

So that meant I only continued with seven subjects or so. Wasn't I good and ambitious?

And I was actually supposed to use those free hours for studying my arse off.

Devlin, on the other hand, still had every single subject – all twelve of them. He claimed that it was a good number, since twelve is so extra-magical.

I, on the other hand, just thought he was being silly. I had seven for my N.E.W.T.s, and felt perfectly safe with that.

And I had chosen seven subjects because the number seven was so much more connected with magic, of course.

'Cedric Diggory?' a little boy, eleven years or so, said with a squeaky voice.

'Um, yeah?' I said and looked at him. I hoped he wasn't about to ask for my autograph or anything, because that would only make me look stupid. It made Gilderoy Lockhart look stupid.

'You have to come. They're going to take your picture and weigh your wands,' he said and looked down at his two feet, cheeks shining redder than Devlin's hair.

'Pardon?' I said.

'It's... Mr Bagman said you should come!'

His eyes were now looking straight at me, looking gobsmacked just by me talking with him.

'Oh, a tournament thing. Great.'

***

In a totally non-stalkerish way, I'd been watching her in the library from time to time.

She'd sit there, mostly alone (but there is after all a difference between alone and lonely) and just... read.

Not chatting with the friends she sometimes was there with, or giggling or anything.

Not that I consider giggling something bad, seeing as it's a typically girly thing (try tell Gemma) and typically girly things are often looked down at, but I'm trying to describe the manners of Hermione Granger, without sounding like a eighteenth century chap.

And she was in the library a great deal. Why I wasn't sure, seeing as she didn't have N.E.W.T.s, O.W.L.s or a Triwizard tournament.

It was like she was always cramming.

But now she wasn't there, and then I wasn't either, because I was walking towards a stupid wand weighing.

***

With the camera flashes still playing around as pineapples in metal cans, I rushed away from the room in which the others were still occupying.

'Oh, there you are,' Gemma cheered lightly and walked next to me down to our common room. 'How was "skipping Arithmancy hour"?'

'Great. Had a big tournament thing instead,' I said, 'and, for your information, I wasn't skipping. I just don't take that class, remember?'

'Pfft,' she just said and shook her head. 'I've found the perfect Arithmancy partner for the rest of the year. Great at snogging and everything.'

'Well, at least you're using class hours in a way that's meaningful and preparing you for the future.'

'Oh, sod off.'

We arrived in common room and first thing I saw was one of those 'Support Cedric Diggory' badges.

'C'mon, they're mean and immature,' I said. If it'd been me who everybody at Hogwarts hated, I certainly wouldn't have liked them. 'Who made these anyway?'

Silence.

'Oh, come on.'

'No, Ced, let's go to dinner.'

That was Gemma. Somehow, she always knew what do say. That's what she's good at, what made people fall for her. I'd never liked her that way, but that's because she'd once said she 'couldn't risk me' by snogging me, 'oh, no not because you're ugly'.

'Oh, and by the way, Cho Chang, fifth-year Ravenclaw, fancies you,' she said like it was the easiest thing in the world. 'I know, I got off with one of her friends.'

'Pretty, Asian, typically thin fifteen-year-old?' I said with a smile as we entered the Great Hall, when people were eyeing us – me.

'That's her,' Gemma said took her place next to Gavin, whose face cracked up into a smile wider than those of the Hogwarts gate hogs, if you know what I mean.

'I made Filch's favourite corridor turn into a swamp,' Gavin said happily.

'I made three first-years invisible,' Gemma said competitively.

'Those spells last... well, innit a maximum of a few minutes?' Gavin said innocently.

'Oh, and by the way, chaps with huge egos are treated like funny when girls are only considered to have humour if the laugh at these boys' very boring jokes,' she said bitingly.

Oh, well, Gemma's my feminist inspiration.

'Oh, go snog each other,' I said while shovelling amounts of mince pie on my plate.

'Well, good idea,' Gemma said and looked at Gavin with an evaluating smile. 'You, me, cupboard in Hufflepuff room?'

'I'm not done eating,' he said, ready to put more pie inside his mouth.

'You're right,' she said, half annoyed, half relieved not to miss dinner.


	4. The girlfriend

_Well, seeing as it's such a wonderful thing being home and sick from school, I just couldn't help spreading the joy with another chapter._

_And if anyone's wonder when the drama is going to start, I have to say I'm not sure there's going to be much drama - just a lovesick Cedric._

_Which isn't half bad._

**Chapter 4**

And then, of course, there was the Quidditch world cup. Seeing her there, with the Weasley family and Harry Potter, had made getting up at an unearthly hour so justified.

And I even got to talk to her. I said 'Hi' with a smile and she responded 'Hullo'.

Oh, happy day.

Not that the Quidditch match itself wasn't great, but honestly. Hermione was even better.

I almost feel obsessed with her, but in a more civilised way.

I am civilised.

Unlike Gemma.

'WHAT THE MERLIN?' she half-screams angrily when she first reads the story The Daily Prophet covered on the Tournament. 'Cedric, they don't even mention you!'

'Oh, well, I suppose there wasn't place for it?'

Gemma's eyes, normally just pale and blue-grey, shoots like flames. 'They only talk about Harry bloody Potter!'

'Gem, calm down,' I say silently. I don't exactly want her to make a big thing about it, especially not in the Hufflepuff common room, where they don't all love Harry Potter.

Gemma does mean a great deal to me. She's my best friend, biggest fan and she's absolutely crazy.

'Oh, did you talk to Cho Chang yet?' she asked me.

'No, I will,' I said.

And I did.

Let's just say Gemma knows me scarily well. She made my try out for Quidditch team because she knew I'd love it, and know, several years later, I'm the captain, even though Professor Dumbledore cancelled Quidditch this year.

Gemma also has this big thing for setting me up with girls. I think it is because she feels bad about not being my girlfriend herself.

Gemma knows exactly which kind of girls I like. At least the ones that are like Cho Chang and not like Hermione.

'Hi,' I said cheerfully and smiled widely.

'Oh, hello,' she said and smiled, her friends in the other corner of the library giggling.

'Looking for a book?' I asked, until I realised it was probably the worst thing I possibly could have said.

Stupid, stupid, **stupid **Cedric.

'Yep. Some Herbology thing,' she said, long black eyelashes fluttering.

'I can help you,' I offered in my most gentlemanly manner.

'Really? Thanks, Cedric.'

Cho Chang was pretty, chatty, and had a wonderful smile. Gemma was right: she fancied me.

We went on extremely well. We loved the same books (I had never met anyone who'd read every single Charles Dickens book) and we talked about Quidditch (how could anyone support Turnados when it was a known fact that The Prides have the best players since the eighteenth century?).

Cho was great in every way.

'Nobody but you could chat up someone in the library,' Gemma said, jokingly.

If I had been a girl who read silly romantic novels and fantasised about fictional persons, Cho would be that person.

We had a lot of things in common and we had that 'chemistry' you're supposed to have, and a week after that much-hated and ridiculed (by Hufflepuffs) article, she kissed me.

And I can't explain that feeling of extreme awkwardness I felt, because it wouldn't be fair to Cho. It was brilliant, and suddenly, we spend a lot of our time together, and then we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend, forcing our friends to spend much time outside because on the problems with having a good place to be, seeing as our two common rooms couldn't be used.

We started using the library. It was easy, really. As long as we sat as far away from Madam Pince, the librarian, as possible, and didn't make more noise than your regular giggling fourth-years, she wouldn't even notice us.

That's because we were a bunch of nice little Hufflepuffs, and intelligent Ravenclaws. Prejudices are kind of brilliant when handled right.

So when we were sitting there a regular Sunday, doing homework and chatting (and, with the exception of Gemma who never giggled) acted like we were twelve-year old girls, I saw her sitting a few tables away, totally alone.

Hermione Granger, the girl I still couldn't get out of my head, even though me and Cho so obviously were made to be together (why else did we like the exact same tastes of Bertie Botts?).

And all of sudden, Cho felt like a burden. Because 1) I never, ever cheat on people, 2) if Hermione hadn't started to like me when I didn't have a girlfriend, how could I make her when I had, and 3) she wouldn't get the hints of me liking her (which I'd been sending her so frequently before, or something) if she thought I liked someone else.

Which I did. But not in that way.


	5. First task preparation

_Okay, I've obviously not updated in a while, but I realise now that this is the voice that flows easiest out of me right now, which is why I might start updating a lot more frequently this summer. Hope you like it._

**Chapter 5**

Freaking out, just slightly, about the first task wasn't good for me, the way too much fish and chips weren't good for me.

I tried too read so much even Devlin got a bit jealous - apparently I screwed up his smart one reputation.

Then, all of sudden, there was Harry Potter saving the day. Again. Just after the weekend I'd gotten together with Cho (and found Hermione in the library, making my heart flip a little), before a charms lesson or something, a Monday. The very day before the first task.

(Getting a girlfriend to spend a lot of time with when you're supposed to prepare for something that might just save your life... well, at least it would make my last days a bit better. But, honestly, I'd prefer it so much if it had been Hermione. Cho was great, but not quite as … last days of life-worthy.)

He told me that the first task involved dragons – ruining the new bag which made me kind of pissed off, but he was fourteen, I couldn't expect him to come up with a smarter way to get my attention.

(Um, he could have sent Hermione. Just sayin'.)

And, of course, I managed to fix it with the smallest bit of help from Devlin (who knows every spell there is to know) and Nalin, who is the artsy one – at least she knows how bags are supposed to look like, which the rest fo us don't bother too much about. Except for me. But she knows better. And, despite Nalin being Indian (Hindi, not the 'Christopher Columbus failed miserably at geography' kind) she didn't make it to pearls and colours-y. Great.

But still. Dragons?

Oh, that really sucked.

Not that I was scared. I didn't have that kind of feeling. It was more like... you know, how the fuck was I going to handle a dragon.

I know nothing's impossible – the impossible just takes a little more time.

But I didn't have much time.

A day, specifically.

Gemma thought I'd gone completely bonkers when I asked her to spend one night with me in the library.

'Ced, when I said that nobody but you could find a girlfriend in the library, I wasn't indicating that your sexual library skills went as far as...'

'Shut up. You know what I mean. And, I didn't mean you as in you, Gemma, but as... you know, us.'

She nodded and assembled our whole group – even Cho came for an hour - in the library for the evening and night (nice little Hufflepuffs can bribe Madam Pince to allow them to stay there the whole night), even having a large amount of food with them, and a few spells Nalin new that were the equivalent of fifty-five cups of coffee minus the death risk.

We spent a long time in there, all silent (even Nalin, who'd sometimes hum for herself when she read), but we were alone, not together with the other contestants, which I'd thought.

Well, okay I might have hoped that Harry Potter would be there. Because, if he were there, she'd be there too, helping him find his way in the library, going through a lot of books on dragons. Of course, he obviously already knew that the first task was going to be about them. (Um, because he was the one who told me, see?)

But no, Hermione and her friend weren't there, and neither were Viktor (who was there usually, just sitting arond and studying, I suppose) or Fleur (who'd never put her foot inside our library, I think).

We didn't have quite the same technique I'd imagined Hermione to have. We knew so much about dragons, but we didn't focus on the dragon part, because a) they were just a part of the thing, and I needed a plan for how to get through the whole thing, b) books on dragons in libraries are mostly about taking care of them (someone among the five us had a very intense dragon fanboy period during third year – it wasn't me) and c) I couldn't actually be were Hermione would be if she'd been there...

I guess I was really a) stressed out, b) nervous and c) tired, despite the spells.

Going through books wasn't the most exhilarating thing to do, but we managed, and when we came from the library in the morning, I went straight to the breakfast table, ate something and went just as straight to bed, only to wake up for the task.

Gemma was so shocked when she realised I'd skip classes (actually skip, not just skip Arithmancy) that she poured her pumpkin juice over the table, into the lap of some new Cedric Diggory fanclub member that sat down next to her at breakfast.

As soon as I woke up, I put on nice and proper clothes that wouldn't be too hard to transfigurate in, polished my wand (and by that I mean cleaned the one that was twelve and a quarter of an inch long, made out of ash wood and with a unicorn hair inside it – nothing else) and walked down to eat lunch.

Well, try to, at least. I didn't get much down, but Cho came and sat next to me, babbling about nonsense to cheer me up.

Or made me think about things that didn't involve killing myself nearly volontarily.

I had the strongest urge to seize the moment to kiss Hermione, because I might die in the next couple of hours, but I didn't. I kissed Cho on her cheek, and Nalin kissed me on my cheek, and Gemma looked a bit like she was going to do it, too, but then she backed off.

'Sorry, Ced – no sexual contact among us. That's my rule, you know.'

'It wasn't sexual contact!' Nalin whispered loudly, as she didn't want anyone except our closest group to hear – because, frankly, the whole Hall focused on me, Harry Potter, Fleur or Viktor.

'But Nalin, you don't have sexual contact with anyone,' Gemma whispered back, rolling her eyes. 'Um, except for ... naah, forget it.'

I hugged Devlin and Gavin, got friendly, encouraging pats in the back by most people from all the houses except for Gryffindor (but I'm not judging) as Professor Sprout encouraged me to go with her to the place where the contestants were to meet.

I looked at Hermione and her competing friend (they entered the Great Hall just as I walked out of it, but they didn't see me), and I just merely tried to picture how she'd realise my awesomeness if I won the whole thing, which was enough to make me feel a bit less panicky.

**Focus**, Cedric.


End file.
